


The Subtle Art of Feeding Your Classmate Seductively

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Candy, Chores, M/M, r/suddenlygay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-01 05:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20253055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dimitri asks Ashe to repair a tent and offers to bring him a sweet food of his choosing as thanks, an offer Ashe reluctantly accepts.What my dumb brain imagined after getting through their C support.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sorry

Dimitri was useless at sewing. Give him a needle and he could bend it in four places (if not break it) before he could get the cursed thread through the eye. Just a few days earlier he relented and asked Mercedes for help patching up a hole in his uniform. Her handiwork was top-notch, and though he only wished for himself rudimentary sewing capabilities, he had neither the patience nor a sufficiently delicate touch. Thus, when he found in the Blue Lions' possession a tent in disrepair—a long tear running down one side—he requested the services of the person closest near.

“Can you please fix this one first, Ashe?”

Ashe had nimble fingers, and while his sewing could hardly be called beautiful it was always durable; he mended much of his and his siblings' clothes growing up, when money was tight (to state it lightly) and thread was cheap.

“Absolutely!” Ashe had no qualms. He was eager to do his part.

Dimitri was grateful. Too grateful, Ashe thought. Maybe Ashe should have cut him short, ended the interaction then and there, plopped himself at the table, and gotten right to work. Maybe then, Dimitri wouldn't have offered to buy him sweets to “make the job less of a burden” (What business did Dimitri have knowing he liked sweets, anyway?), and Ashe wouldn't have been put in the position to accept a gift from someone so much higher in status. Typical Dimitri, insisting his classmates treat him just the same as any other person.

Ashe was nearly done but still at work when Dimitri returned from the market, having completed his errand of shopping. In fact, Ashe was so engrossed in repairing the tent that it did not register to him that he had eaten a sugar candy right out of the hand of the future king of Faerghus until after the deed was done.

“I was expecting to hand it off to you,” Dimitri remarked, brows raised, “but I suppose this is more efficient...”

Horrified, Ashe blurted, “S-sorry! I completely did not mean to do that! It was just there and I wasn't even thinking and I—”

“Be at ease, Ashe,” Dimitri interjected. “Besides, it is I who should be apologizing for disrupting your concentration.”

“Oh, no. Don't worry about it. Um... Thanks for the candies. They're excellent.”

“Would you like another?” Dimitri took another candy out of the bag, but held it at enough of a distance to imply that Ashe was meant to proceed in a _very_ particular manner. The slightest hint of a smirk played at Dimitri's lips.

How confusing, Ashe thought. The intention, clear. The motivation? Terribly, terribly confusing.

Cautiously—dubiously—Ashe leaned toward him, the tent gripped tightly in his hands, and opened his mouth.

Dimitri gently pressed the piece of candy to Ashe's bottom lip. He watched as Ashe grabbed the sweet between his teeth to pry it from Dimitri's fingers before closing his mouth around it, and Dimitri caught a glimpse of how Ashe's soft tongue had molded to the curve of the hard candy. Likewise, Ashe kept his eyes fixed on Dimitri's face throughout the process, trying and trying to figure out what in the Goddess' name he was thinking.

_One more._

“One more can't hurt...” Ashe mumbled. Had Dimitri said that out loud?

All he knew was this: The blush taking over Ashe's pallor was absolutely adorable.

This would be the last one, Ashe promised himself. _Someone from the royal family. The royal family! Feeding. You. By. Hand!_

At least Dimitri looked satisfied. This reassured Ashe somewhat—in some strange, backwards way—and he averted his eyes. As he accepted the third (and decidedly last) candy, he overshot it and grazed his tongue along the edge of Dimitri's thumb. It happened in a split second, and despite the taste of sweet sending happy signals to his brain he felt nervous and dizzy.

“I think I'm set for now,” Ashe said, turning his attention back to the damaged tent in his lap. “Thank you for going out of your way to buy this for me.”

“N-no problem,” Dimitri replied. He took a step back and wore an odd look, as if suddenly trying to reconcile what he had done. “...And thank you for mending this for me. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course.”

Dimitri placed the bag next to Ashe. As he turned to leave, Ashe called, “Wait!” He held the bag out to Dimitri. “Have you tried one?”

_Ah, yes. Right. That's how you offer food to someone._

Gingerly, Dimitri reached into the bag of treats and retrieved a single candy. “Thank you,” he said. He did not have much of a sweet tooth, but as he left Ashe to his business, he found this rather palatable. He hummed a ballad as he sought the professor to give his report of the day’s chores.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry x2

Ashe was crushing HARD on Dimitri.

At least, that’s the conclusion he’d come to. The prickle of warmth across his face when Dimitri’s fingers brushed his lips? The way his heart raced watching Dimitri’s broad back walk away? The way he salivated when he saw Dimitri in the dining hall? No, wait, maybe that last one was just a Pavlovian thing.

To Dimitri’s credit (and to Ashe’s ire), the leader of the Blue Lions was just as silver tongued and winsome as ever. The way he greeted Ashe the next day made the whole The-Prince-Of-Faerghus-Fed-You-Candy-Right-Out-Of-The-Palm-Of-His-Hand thing seem like a hoax—like it never happened! And while Ashe was grateful that this allowed them to carry on without any outside scrutiny, he was miffed that this didn’t bother Dimitri nearly as much as it bothered him.

Ashe hadn’t _planned_ to do anything to pursue this further. It wasn’t _his_ fault that two weeks later, the dynamic duo Mercie and Annie went on a baking extravaganza, and that he just _happened_ to be there when they were packing up the goodies for gifting. It’s not like he _asked_ to be the delivery boy designated to pass on Dimitri’s portion. Really.

What a nightmare, Ashe thought. As he stood outside Dimitri’s closed door on the second floor of the dormitory, his hands began to sweat around the neatly packed box of pastries.

_Do I actually _like_ Dimitri that way? _Ashe asked himself. Strange, the answer felt like a _No_. He was pretty sure he was straight, and he was pretty sure Dimitri wasn’t his type, but there was something about him that wrought his nerves, gave him weird thoughts that made him feel breathless and excited.

The sound of a door slamming shut at the opposite end of the hall brought him back to his senses. Ashe took a deep breath and knocked on Dimitri’s door. He heard the scrape of chair legs on wood and six deliberate footsteps.

“Oh. Hello, Ashe,” Dimitri said, surprised. “It’s a bit late isn’t it?”

“I’m just about heading to bed, Your Highness,” Ashe replied. He planned to squeeze in some reading before shut-eye, but details, details. “Annette and Mercedes baked a whole batch of treats and wanted to share them with all the Blue Lions. This one’s for you.” He held out the package.

Dimitri frowned slightly. “A bit late,” he repeated. “I already brushed my teeth. And... to be honest, I’m not one for sweets.”

“Oh, right. I forgot.” Ashe withdrew the package. “What should I tell the ladies?”

Dimitri crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe. “How sweet are they?”

“I—“ Ashe cocked his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t actually tried one.”

“That settles it, then.” The prince smiled handsomely. “Share them with me?”

As he stepped aside to give space for Ashe to enter the room—and a standard-sized room, mind you; as small as any other typical student’s, even though Dimitri was far from typical—Ashe balked. 

“I, um, don’t think I should. After all, this is Your Highness’ space and someone like me shouldn’t intrude...”

“Nonsense,” insisted Dimitri. “You’ll be doing me a favor. Come on in.”

A pang of fear and excitement struck Ashe in the gut, but he stepped forward. “If you say so,” he said, and the door shut behind him.

_In the lion’s den_, Ashe thought, looking around at Dimitri’s belongings. On the windowsill was a pot of vibrant violets. A touch of Professor Byleth and his unexpected green thumb. Or Dedue’s, possibly. At Dimitri’s desk, a textbook lay open, with sheets of notes scattered at its side. The bed was made and the rug had a smudge of mud in the corner nearest the door.

“May I?” Dimitri held out his hands to accept the parcel, which Ashe handed over. “Please, have a seat.”

He placed the box on his desk and began to open it. He stood so close to his desk chair that Ashe thought it would be strange to choose to sit there, so he plopped himself on Prince Dimitri’s bed as he chastised himself for taking advantage of the opportunity to get comfy on the furniture of royalty. (Okay, it was the school’s, but still.)

Dimitri’s bed. His BED. Not even Sylvain was allowed to touch Dimitri’s bed. (Well, maybe there was good reason behind that.)

_Stop_, Ashe told himself. _Dimitri wants you to think of him as an equal. He told you himself, remember?_

Ashe’s heart was pounding.

“Er... Ashe?”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

“You didn’t happen to bring any utensils, did you?” He held the open box out toward Ashe. Inside were two large chocolate-drizzled cream puffs—the size of little sandwiches. _Fuck_.

“I... No.”

“Would you like to do the honors?” Dimitri asked. He waited for Ashe to move first.

_Goddess, why me?_

“Of course!”

Delicately, Ashe reached into the container and pulled out a single cream puff. He worried it would fall apart between his fingers; it was heavy for what it was. He glanced at Dimitri.

Dimitri nodded, urging him to proceed. “Let me know how sweet it is. Maybe I will take a bite of the other.”

Understandable, Ashe thought. Not weird. Being watched by Dimitri? No, not weird at all.

The moment Ashe sunk his teeth into the dessert, the puff pastry crumbled, oozing a thick glob of sweet cream that fell through his hand.

But Dimitri’s reflexes were quick, and he caught the filling before it landed on his sheets or Ashe’s clothing. He was so quick that it had only fallen a few inches from where Ashe had frozen with the cream puff still partially in his mouth. Dimitri was also thorough: to prevent any further mishaps, he had taken it upon himself to hold the dessert to Ashe’s lips.

Ashe stared up at Dimitri with wide eyes, while Dimitri returned his gaze.

_So close. _

“I, uh—“ Dimitri cleared his throat. “That was a close call.” He withdrew his hands: first the one cupping a handful of cream puff guts, then the one closest to Ashe’s face, giving Ashe full control of his rebellious dessert. This action greeted Dimitri with the revelation that he had just smeared an inordinate amount of wet chocolate and cream down the left side of Ashe’s chin.

“Goddess, I am so sorry,” Dimitri said. He searched frantically for a cloth he could spare to clean up the mess he made all over Ashe’s _adorable_ freckled face.

Wait, what?

Dimitri picked up a handkerchief and began to wipe the sugar off Ashe’s chin.

“Sorry,” Ashe said, grimacing.

“Don’t worry about it. It could have been much worse.” Dimitri finished up cleaning off Ashe’s face and discarded the soiled hankie, depositing the cream puff innards from his hand within. He then noticed that Ashe’s free hand, too, was smeared with cream, and watched as Ashe brought it up to his mouth to lick his fingers clean.

_Like a cat_, Dimitri thought.

Meanwhile, Ashe felt like he was just about ready to die. _I’ve had seventeen good years_, he thought._ Maybe my time has come._

And there was Dimitri, giving him that weird look again.

“What?” Ashe said, still cleaning himself off.

“Was it sweet?”

“I don’t think you would like it very much.”

“But you do?”

“Me? I like it.” He got most of his right hand clear by then. “It’s just difficult to eat.”

Dimitri held his hand out, expecting Ashe to pass the half-eaten dessert. “You should try it again.”

His words and actions were incongruous. He was being decidedly difficult, Ashe thought. Well! Ashe could be difficult, too.

Ashe stared at Dimitri for about two whole seconds before reaching for his chocolate-covered hand and giving it a good lick. It scared the wits out of Dimitri, and he pulled his hand back immediately.

“What are you after, Your Highness?” Ashe asked. “You invite me to share but you have no intention of eating them yourself, do you? Sorry for being so forward. Could you please pass me that box?”

Dimitri complied, and Ashe dropped the mangled cream puff in next to the other. He turned his desk chair to face Ashe, looked him in the eyes, and with some delay he confessed, “…I liked feeding you.” As Ashe gaped, he continued, “You look happy eating the things you like. I can’t really explain it. I suppose I enjoyed being able to do this for you. I wanted to do it again.”

Ashe’s brow furrowed as he examined Dimitri’s expression for any hint that he was fooling with him, but there was none. Dimitri looked sincere, with a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

“Perhaps I am overstepping my boundaries,” Dimitri said, becoming increasingly flustered. “Please, forget I said anything. We can stop here—”

Ashe tilted the box toward Dimitri. An invitation.

“I enjoyed it, too.”

A wave of relief flooded Dimitri’s body. He grinned something asymmetrical that made Ashe’s heart skip a beat as he pulled his chair closer and reached for the intact cream puff. “Hold the box underneath, just in case,” he instructed.

Ashe cradled the box in his lap as Dimitri leaned toward him, inching the cream puff toward his lips. As he bit into the dessert, he instinctively raised a hand to avoid a repeat of the last time, but Dimitri gently brushed his hand aside and replaced it with his own. Some of the cream spilled out and onto Ashe’s chin. Dimitri scraped it off with the edge of his finger, noting the softness of Ashe’s skin. He had yet to grow any facial hair, it seemed.

“Good?”

Ashe nodded, chewing. He glanced up at Dimitri, then looked away. It made Dimitri pay attention to the dark eyelashes that fluttered whenever Ashe blinked. The curve of his nose. The clusters of freckles on his cheeks. From his angle, he could even see them dotting his neck and collarbones.

Another bite. This one was neater—with the pressure in the pastry already relieved, Ashe only needed to lap up what threatened to spill out. He had no sense of where Dimitri had placed his fingers until his tongue ran across something that was distinctly _not_ food.

Ashe retreated slightly, thinking he did something wrong, but apparently Dimitri thought he did everything right because his cream-coated fingers pressed lightly against Ashe’s closed lips. Of course, the most natural thing that came to Ashe was to open his mouth.

Dimitri smirked as he slipped two fingers inside. He felt the soft, wet muscle that was Ashe’s tongue press back and forth on the callused but sensitive pads of his index and middle fingers. Around, between, front, back—Dimitri slid his fingers in and out slightly, just to see how Ashe would react. He winced, and a harsh blush ravaged his pale, smooth skin, but his warm mouth continued to work dutifully on his fingers.

Dimitri had to ask himself, was this really all he wanted? Emotionally, he had nothing to spare. But physically? He was aching. Had Ashe any idea the longing he felt looking at those slim features around that erotic mouth?

He gave Ashe a break on the penultimate bite, and only watched intently, resting his chin on his fist, his elbow propped up on his knee.

“I think you’d tolerate this, actually,” Ashe said. “It’s not _that_ sweet.”

“I prefer using it for this,” Dimitri replied.

The last bite went in easy, and Ashe felt the teeniest bit forlorn as he realized this whole unbelievable ordeal was coming to an end. He chewed slowly, and when he was done he reached for the hand that fed him, sticky with chocolate and cream, and tentatively licked Dimitri’s thumb. He felt like he was doing a good job—that he knew what Dimitri wanted, that he had Dimitri wrapped around his finger, entranced. To put it plainly, he felt desirable, and he liked it.

Dimitri pushed his thumb into Ashe’s mouth, pressing down on his tongue as if to check that he had swallowed. As Ashe’s tongue slid out from underneath, Dimitri moved his thumb to his bottom lip and traced its edge. The care and focus that Dimitri dedicated to this action made Ashe feel like it was the most intimate they had been that night.

“I think I should get going,” Ashe whispered.

“Y-yes. Good idea.” Dimitri stood abruptly. He rummaged for another cloth to clean up both their hands. “Thank you for coming by. Please thank Mercedes and Annette for me.”

Ashe paused by the door, listening for footsteps. After several seconds without a sound, he said, “Goodnight, Dimitri,” and slipped outside.

Back to his lonesome, Dimitri slouched in his chair, in disbelief of his lack of restraint. He hoped the irreverent memories of that evening would isolate themselves from his dreams, but part of him hoped they would persist, presenting clear as day. He felt positively wrecked, and it would take some recovery time before he could even face the homework he’d been doing prior.

Ah, but Ashe had finally called him by his first name!


End file.
